She dropped by the house on Saturday evening with a credible excuse: to show
her fabric swatches for bridesmaids’ dresses. If it had been up to Betsy, they would have
had a sensible civil ceremony at city hall and there wouldn’t have been any bridesmaids,
ornate flowers, or limousines. She hated anything wasteful and frivolous and extravagant.
But she knew Gregory’s mother was excited about a large wedding, and Betsy didn’t
want to cause any problems. She’d wait until after the vows to set things straight with
her
. She didn’t stay at Gregory’s house long. His mother took the fabric samples and
smiled. But she was too animated; she barely invited Betsy into the front hall. Her voice
was loud and nervous, and her sentences ran together with an upward lilt as if she were
hiding something. This alone made Betsy suspicious. Gregory’s mother knew something
and she wasn’t going to share it.
Her suspicions were confirmed when Gregory’s mother said, “He just loves
Savannah. He’s always talking about it. He spent a summer there and had to get back for
a little harmless springtime visit. His father was originally from there, you know.”
“I see,” Betsy said. But she didn’t see at all. In all the time she’d known Gregory,
he’d never mentioned Savannah, not once. He’d never mentioned he’d been there, or that
his father was from there. If he’d been so in love with it, he surely would have mentioned
this “harmless” fact at least a few times? “I just thought it was a bit odd that he’d leave
now, being that tomorrow is Easter Sunday and all. You’d think he’d want to be here
with his family.”
His mother held her stomach and forced a laugh. “Ah, well, Betsy darling,” she
said, “that’s Gregory for you. He’s never been one to observe the holidays. He never even
sent us a Christmas card or a birthday card the entire time he was in the Army. When he
was in the service, aside from a few letters and trinkets he sent home, you would have
thought we didn’t exist.”
The next morning, Betsy packed a small bag, a few mystery novels, and had the
oil and tires checked. She wore a plain beige dress with flat ballerina slippers to match,
because it was a holiday. Then she drove down to Savannah to surprise her fiancé on
Easter Sunday. She sat close to the wheel, hunched over, and drove with her forearms. She hadn’t even left the city limits of Atlanta when she noticed her heart was beating
faster and her legs were tingling. She felt like a character in one of the mystery novels she
reviewed.
If she’d had enough talent to write a mystery novel of her own, this was exactly
how it would have begun.
Chapter Eleven
When Gregory had first been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, the children had rallied
to support Kadin. Brandon flew down from New York, Bryce drove down from
Washington, D.C., and Marjorie flew out from Los Angeles with her husband and three
children. They helped Kadin and Gregory get through that first week of dismay and
shock, then went back to their lives.
Kadin had appreciated their support. He loved them all dearly. But he was glad
when they’d finally left. He knew they’d meant well. But Brandon kept rubbing his jaw
and shaking his head, telling him he had to prepare for the future. Bryce had asked him
about his long-term nursing home insurance options, “for when the time comes.” And
Marjorie had wanted him to put the house up for sale and move to Los Angeles so he
wouldn’t be alone when “the inevitable happens.” She was being tactful, but Kadin knew
what she meant.
He wasn’t ready to just give up. He’d waited once for Gregory to return to him,
and he was prepared to do it again.
Kadin smiled and listened to all of them, but didn’t commit to anything definite.
They didn’t understand. All he wanted to do was hold on to what he had left of his life,
the only real life he’d ever known. His life hadn’t begun until he’d met Gregory, and he
wanted to take each second he had with him and squeeze as much from it as he could.
Hope was all he had.
So when he saw his family crossing the nursing home grounds toward his table,
he closed his laptop and stood to greet them. It was a breezy Sunday afternoon. There were still a few leaves left on the trees that had refused to fall before their time. His
children had all gathered in Savannah for the weekend because they hadn’t seen him
since Easter, and now they were on their way back to their homes and families. Marjorie
had cooked everyone a wonderful dinner at the house on Saturday, and he’d joined them
when he knew Gregory was safe in his room for the night. But he didn’t spend the night
in his own home. After dinner, he hugged and kissed them goodbye and went back to his
room in the nursing home so he’d be there in the morning when Gregory woke.
This was the first time the children had seen Gregory all weekend. Kadin had
thought it was best not to disrupt his routine and to keep their visit short. The smallest
occurrence could set him back for days. When Kadin stood and stepped away from the
table, Gregory turned to see who was approaching. He stared up at the three grown
children he’d once loved like his own with the same polite smile he gave to all complete
strangers. His hands were folded and his feet were crossed at the ankle. He looked good
that day, in his red cardigan and black slacks.
Kadin hugged each one, then turned to Gregory and said, “These are my children.
They came down for a quick visit and they’re all going home this afternoon.” He always
hoped Gregory would remember at least one of them.
Marjorie’s eyebrows went up and she extended her arm to shake his hand. “I’m
Marjorie,” she said. Her eyes darted back and forth to her brothers, but Gregory didn’t
notice her confusion.
He didn’t get up either. But he extended his arm to her and said, “It’s very nice to
meet you, dear. Your father runs a wonderful hotel here.” Marjorie hesitated for a moment and looked him in the eye, then pulled her arm
back and clutched her purse hard. She gave Kadin a look and lowered her head fast.
“And these are my two sons,” Kadin said, ignoring Marjorie. “Brandon and
Bryce.”
They just nodded and smiled.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Gregory said. Then he stood up and smiled at Kadin.
“I’m going inside now to play the guitar so you can visit with your children. It was nice
to meet you all. You’re a fine family, indeed. I wish I’d had children.”
Marjorie grabbed Brandon’s arm and forced a smile. But there were tears welling
in the corners of her eyes.
As he turned to leave, Kadin said, “I’ll be in shortly, and I’ll read more of the
story.”
“That would be nice,” Gregory said.
When he was gone, Marjorie hugged her father and said, “He didn’t even have a
clue. It kills me to see him like this. It’s as if he’s someone completely different now.”
“When did he learn to play the guitar?” Brandon asked. His hands were in his
pockets and he was still watching Gregory walk back to the sunroom. Brandon had
always been the sturdy one. But even
his
voice sounded a bit shaky this afternoon.
Kadin smiled. “He doesn’t play. He’s going back to sit at a table and draw.” He
didn’t tell them about the crayons and coloring books.
Bryce frowned and shook his head. “I wish you’d reconsider living here and move
back home. I really worry about what this might be doing to you. You can still visit him often, but at least you can be in your own home. And we can hire a housekeeper to look
after you.”
Kadin waved his arm and smiled. The last thing he needed was some nosy
housekeeper watching his every move. “I’m just fine. When I’m with Gregory, I am
home.”
* * * *
After their argument about Eddie, Gregory sped down the driveway. Kadin ran
back into the house and told Eddie to leave. He kept his voice soft and his words were
kind, but he made it clear he wasn’t interested in seeing him again. Eddie frowned, but he
finally said he understood. Eddie even kissed him goodbye on the cheek before Kadin
grabbed his car keys, ran out the door, and jumped into the Cadillac convertible to find
Gregory.
He’d lost him once in his life and he hadn’t bothered to go after him. He wasn’t
going to make that mistake twice.
When it finally occurred to him he didn’t even know where Gregory was staying,
he was speeding toward town. So he decided to check out every hotel and motel within
the city limits. The roads were empty because it was the Saturday night before Easter. He
had to drive past three hotels and two motels until he finally spotted Gregory’s blue
Chrysler in the parking lot of The Eagle Motel. He pulled up next to his car on an angle
and turned off the motor. The Chrysler was parked in front of room 16, so he got out of
the car and knocked on the door. But no one answered. He knocked a few more times, then decided to try room 17
next door. As he turned to leave, the door to room 16 opened and Gregory said, “I figured
I’d better come out, so you don’t start knocking on every door here.”
Kadin tiled his head and said, “That was a good idea, because that’s exactly what
I was about to do.” Then he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Can I come
in?”
Gregory stared down at his shoes. His face wasn’t red anymore and the large vein
in his forehead had gone down, but his eyes were puffy. He sniffed back and said, “I
don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Kadin smiled and spread his arms; he extended his hands palms up. He had
nothing to feel guilty about, and he wanted to prove this to Gregory. “I won’t stay long. I
promise. I just want to talk to you so you fully understand what happened back at the
house. Then, if you want me to leave, I will.”
Gregory took a shallow breath and opened the door wider. He stepped to the side
and said, “You can come in for just a minute.”
Kadin came through the doorway fast. It was a basic motel room, with one double
bed, a wall of Formica built-ins, and a bathroom in the back. The carpet was orange and
the bedspread was olive green. He sat on the edge of the bed and Gregory sat on a Danish
modern chair in front of the desk.
Kadin confessed everything. First he told him Eddie had shown up unannounced
earlier. Then he told Gregory all about his little excursions to the picnic area north of
Savannah. He told him that’s where he’d met Eddie, and a few other guys, and he made
no apologies. He didn’t go into any graphic details about what he’d done with these guys, but he emphasized that he never been emotionally involved, and that Gregory was the
only man he’d ever loved. His voice was soft and low. He looked directly into Gregory’s
eyes and never stammered or hesitated once.
When he was finished, he looked at Gregory. “And now that you’re back,” he said,
“I’ll never go to a place like that picnic area again.”
Gregory thought for a moment and sighed. He said, “I believe you. And, just so
you know, I haven’t exactly been a saint either.”
Kadin stood up and crossed to the chair. He placed his fingertips under his chin
and lifted his head up higher. “I don’t want to talk about the past anymore. What’s done
is done.” The last thing he wanted to listen to were the sexual adventures Gregory had
had in the Army. The thought of another man even touching Gregory’s body made
Kadin’s stomach jump.
The only way to remove these images from his mind, the pictures of rough guys
in uniform spreading Gregory’s legs wide, was to re-claim Gregory’s body once again.
He belonged to Kadin now, and Kadin wanted to prove it. So he spread his legs wider
and pulled down his zipper. Then he placed his palm on the back of Gregory’s head and
pushed his face between his legs. Gregory didn’t resist the pressure. He lifted his hands
and pressed his palms against Kadin’s thighs. He ran them up and down, with slow
strokes. Then he stuck out his tongue and slipped it into the open fly of Kadin’s
underwear and licked his pubic hair. His head went up and down at first, then with rapid,
hungry jerks. His eyes were closed and his tongue was hanging from his mouth when
Kadin finally pulled the back of his head and said, “Let’s get out of these clothes.” Gregory reached into his pants and pulled out his erection. He wrapped his hand
around the shaft and said, “After we’re naked, I want you to lie back on the bed and let
me do all the work this time. I might not be kinky and into weird clothes, but I want you
